


When In Rome

by meils121



Category: Leverage
Genre: Past Relationship(s), Reminiscing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-28 06:34:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19806697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meils121/pseuds/meils121
Summary: It was Rome in the eighties, an electric time of questionable choices and big hair and money.  Sophie, of course, was after the money.  She arrived in Rome on a Tuesday, flashing a passport with the name Ana DiCarlo and an Italian flag.  She was young and beautiful and turned heads from the moment she stepped out into the street to hail a taxi.Or: The story of old identities, past flames, and a million possibilities.





	When In Rome

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TanyaReed](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TanyaReed/gifts).



It started – as many of these things did – with Parker sitting down next to Sophie and holding up a stolen good. This one happened to be a necklace with the initials ‘DMR’ etched in cursive on the back of a small cameo. It had, until this point, been tucked away in Sophie’s jewelry box, the one that she rarely opened but kept around for sentimental reasons. 

“Parker,” Sophie said with a sigh, “What did I say about going through my things?”

Unsurprisingly, Parker did not look a bit ashamed. “You said that normal people wouldn’t,” she answered. “But, since I’m me and not normal” – and she said this proudly – “I did anyways.”

Sophie rubbed at her temples. There are headaches, and then there are Parker-that’s-not-how-I-meant-that-headaches. “Okay,” she settled on saying. “What do you want to know?” 

Parker frowned at the necklace. “What do the initials stand for?”

Sophie reached out, taking the necklace from Parker and running a finger across the etched letters. “Daphne Marie Riley,” she answered finally. “One of my favorite identities when I was first learning to grift.”

“Why haven’t you ever used it with us?” Parker asked. And that – that might be more of a question that Sophie was fully equipped to answer right then. But this is Parker, and so she decided to try anyways. Parker settled deeper into the sofa, perhaps sensing that Sophie was about to tell a _story_. 

It was Rome in the eighties, an electric time of questionable choices and big hair and _money_. Sophie, of course, was after the money. She arrived in Rome on a Tuesday, flashing a passport with the name Ana DiCarlo and an Italian flag. She was young and beautiful and turned heads from the moment she stepped out into the street to hail a taxi. 

There was a purpose to this visit. The number of wealthy bachelors in England who did not by now recognize her as a heartbreaker were dwindling, though most of them had yet to discover she had not only left their heart in pieces but lightened their wallets as well. But Rome was bustling with young men with money in their pockets, along with the keys to some of the city’s greatest private treasures – collections of art and jewelry and sculptures that were hidden away from the public eye. And Sophie – Sophie had a talent for a coy look here and a well-timed smile there. 

The Italian passport safely tucked in the depths of her luggage, Sophie assumed the identity of a British student on break from Uni, eager to live out a summer romance and bring back tales of her tall, dark, handsome Italian lover to her friends at home. Daphne was flirty and sweet, a perfect mix that Sophie had created specifically for her targets. And they flocked to her, offering to buy her drinks when she went out or to show her around the city or take her to their favorite little cafe. Sophie flirted and danced her way through them until she found the perfect target.

Gianni was tall and handsome, if a bit unsure of himself. They met by accident, a random encounter in a club. Like so many before him, Gianni told the bartender to put Sophie’s drink on his tab, though he did it with a blush and a stammer. Sophie found him utterly charming. 

There have been times, Sophie told Parker with a sad smile, that she thought about giving up a life of cons and fake identities. Meeting Gianni was the first time she seriously considered it. He was _sweet_ in a way most people weren’t. He made Sophie want to be - truly be - Daphne. Be the girl that Gianni thought she was.

Gianni doted on her. He bought her jewelry and took her to expensive restaurants. Sophie enjoyed the romance. She let herself fall into the magicalness of it all. When in Rome and all that. They would talk for hours about art and music and all the things Sophie loved. The one topic that never, ever crossed Gianni’s lips was his family. Perhaps - and that was Sophie thinking back on the whole thing years later - that should have been a red flag. But Sophie was young and still learning and falling in love. She missed the signs. 

All good things have to come to an end. This particular relationship - for that was what it was - ended abruptly. They were sitting outside a cafe one afternoon when a car squealed to a stop and three shots were fired. The car pulled away just as quickly. Two bullets struck Gianni, though thankfully no where serious. But that was the day Sophie learned her Prince Charming, the man she might just leave a life of crime for, was the son of one of Rome’s biggest crime bosses.

Parker gasped. “You dated someone in the Mafia?” She asks. “And you didn’t even realize it?”

Sophie shook her head. “We were both lying to each other.” She said. She glanced down at the necklace. “Daphne - she died that day, in a way. I thought I was so clever. I thought I’d know if someone was conning me. But I was blinded. And, I guess, so was Gianni.”

Parker nodded. “Love is blind.” She says in the voice she uses when she tried to sound like Eliot. 

Sophie smiled. “Something like that.” She said. “Love - our love - was careless. I left Rome the next day. To the best of my knowledge, Gianni never figured out I was lying to him, but I couldn’t risk it.”

“Do you miss him?” Parker asked in that way of hers. 

Sophie considered this. She hadn’t thought of her summer as Daphne in years. “Sometimes.” She settled on finally. “But I was still Daphne when I was with him. I wasn’t Sophie. I wasn’t Sophie with anyone, not in that sort of way.”

“Until us.”

Sophie paused. Trust Parker to just get to the center of it all. “Until you all.” She agreed. “Because I could be all sides of me.”

Parker, apparently satisfied, turned away. Sophie glanced down at the necklace before dropping it into her palm and making a fist around it. Maybe, she thought, she’d have Hardison look Gianni up. Or, she reconsidered, she’ll just leave it be. Let the memories of that summer be what they were meant to be. 


End file.
